The Hidden Cost of Doing It All

I once believed burnout was for people who couldn’t handle the pace. Then I met my own limits. It took me a long time to realize that I was carrying around an invisible burden. 

(I often think of this burden as a backpack but pick your own visual.) 

That backpack got heavier every year, until it nearly broke me…physically, emotionally, and professionally.

This backpack was packed to the brim with expectations that weren’t necessarily forced upon me but instead were subtly slipped in, often without my knowing. These expectations run the gamut from ‘I must always look perfectly put together’ to ‘failure isn’t an option or I’ll let everyone down’…and apparently, my toenails should always be painted, preferably red, as if that’s the secret to fundraising. 

Almost always arbitrary, this backpack was lugged around from a young age, through college, into my first corporate jobs, my journey as a mother, and eventually into my career as a start-up founder. 

As long as I can remember, I’ve been rewarded for being organized, competent, smart, and stylish. Failure has never truly seemed like an option because it didn’t align with the version of me that I felt the world had to see. I am the sort of person who builds successful businesses while somehow also making healthy dinners for my healthy family and yet manages to exercise, invest in my relationships, and get plenty of sleep. 

Or at least…this is what I truly believed I needed to project into the world. Anything other than this is failure. From the outside, I looked like I was winning. Inside, I was exhausted.

In 2019, I found myself constantly on the road as I attempted to raise venture funding for the first time. Away from my three babies, in unfamiliar rooms, and constantly being told no. I didn’t know it then but this is generally what it means to fundraise. You are told no…a lot. Your big-idea-that-will-change-the-world is critiqued, your decisions are judged, and then you’re sent packing. 

It only takes one “yes” to raise money but you’re likely to hear a whole bunch of “no”s along the way. Pitching to a bunch of big time VCs was plenty scary but what really weighed on me was the guilt I felt from being away from my family. It wasn’t just that I missed them. I felt like I was abandoning them. So I booked horribly timed flights to minimize time away and never let myself enjoy the beautiful places I traveled to.

And then came the breaking point. For months, I’d been dealing with a host of health issues, including severe migraines, that led to a series of medical tests, restrictive diets, and oh so many medicines and supplements. So it was after one particularly harsh no from a big-time investor when I finally hit the wall. 

As I sobbed in my hotel room, I truly believed I’d messed everything up and had failed. I was done. My body had been signaling the need for rest for months. Eventually, my mind caught up.

I wish I could say I had all the answers and have finally figured out how to put down my invisible backpack. I can’t and I haven’t. But what I can share with you is how I’ve learned that I was so not alone in this struggle. I began seeing a therapist who helped me realize I was actually the one stuffing my backpack full of these arbitrary burdens and expectations. 

Eventually, I started asking friends and peers about their own struggles. I began to see a very clear pattern. Somewhere along the way, all of us high-performers internalized that we can’t possibly be successful if we aren’t always the perfect picture of organization, confidence, and poise. Especially for women, the expectation isn’t just to do it all, but to make it look effortless.

For something so pervasive, we barely talk about this weight. But it is real and so is the cost of carrying these unseen, unnecessary burdens. Not only are we sacrificing true meaningful growth in our work and personal lives, but I think we’re also sacrificing our health and our sanity. 

What is the cost of stress-induced poor sleep over the years? One less hour of sleep might mean you snap at your kids faster than usual, or you skip that workout, or your brain isn’t firing as well as it could.

But I think the root issue is that we normalize it. We think that success means stress, packed calendars, juggling too much. It’s worse than that…we celebrate it. It’s a sign of how hard we work, how important we are, and how successful we’ve become. The narrative seems to be changing around finding pockets of self-care from time to time, but I think we celebrate the grind as much as we ever have.

I moved to Spain in 2024 with my husband, our three sons, and our dog/goat. We’re both entrepreneurs and had fully embraced the grind. You likely know the stereotypes of the Spanish way of life and I’m here to tell you…they are real. The Spaniards even have a word used to describe spending hours around a table with loved ones. Sobremesa. Isn’t that lovely? It is such a normal part of life in Spain that it’s hard to not see it happening all around you at any time of the day. 

If I had to describe Valencia in sounds, it would be pigeons, e-scooters, and laughter. Pigeons and scooters are the background, but laughter is the centerpiece. Everywhere you go, you’ll hear people enjoying life and one another. Spend enough time around this and it becomes contagious. There is no agenda, they often aren’t even eating, they are simply there to…be. To pause, connect, and to simply be.

Dropping into this scene from our busy lives in the US was a shock to the system, to be sure. But we’re slowly unwinding and don’t feel quite as guilty if our sobremesas overlap traditional “business hours”. And guess what? It’s in those moments that our goals and businesses come into sharper focus. 

It turns out that rest and distance are actually powerful tools to success! How about that?! I’m not being facetious. That’s still pretty mind-blowing to me. I believe there’s a way to have meaningful success and sobremesas. 

Which brings me here, sharing this with you. This is the first of many reflections I’ll be sharing as I unpack what it really means to set that invisible backpack down, and how we might redefine success on our own terms. If you’ve felt this weight too, you’re not alone. I’m still working on it. But for now, consider this your permission slip to put the backpack down…at least for sobremesa.